


nothing to gain

by lestered



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hook-Up, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up, References to Depression, beginnings of an existential crisis but not full-blown yet, explicit sexual content but like not that explicit, set in 2010 but not canon 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-26 04:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18275525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lestered/pseuds/lestered
Summary: what if it only gets colder?would you still wrap me up and tell me that you think this was smart?cause lately i've been scared of even thinking 'bout where we areHooking up is fun, except when it's for all the wrong reasons.





	nothing to gain

The time on his phone reads 1:38am by the time he finishes doing up his shoelaces. 

He's not good with his laces on a normal day, so naturally he has an even harder time when his hands are shaking.

Yes, shaking. His hands are shaking and there's a lump in his throat and he can feel sweat beginning to prickle around his temples and at the back of his neck, because his entire body is flushed too warm for no reason other than he's nervous. 

Nervous for a very stupid reason, at that. Phil's always been one to get nervous for regular hook-ups, but this... isn't a regular hook-up. There's no uncertainty for him to waffle over, no need to plan any moves in advance, no worry that there won't be any chemistry or that he'll underperform. He's done this before. He knows how it works. He knows what to do and how to do it well. Under these circumstances, he should be feeling pretty confident. And if this were a cut-and-dry hook-up, maybe he would. 

It's not cut-and-dry though. Nothing with Dan ever is. 

It's stressful. Phil's not usually one to overthink things, except for when it comes to Dan. Then he overthinks everything. Which sucks, because Dan is pretty much the only thing that he can't afford to overthink.  

He rubs his hand down over his face in frustration as he stands, pondering his reflection in the mirror. His hair's getting a bit bird-nesty, he could probably stand to cut it. His eyes look a bit bleary from having his contacts in too long. Biting his lip is a nervous habit of his, but he doesn't even realize he's been doing it until he sees how red and raw his bottom lip looks. He likes to tell himself that looks don't matter, but he feels oddly self-conscious right now.

He's considering changing into something a bit more flattering than his jeans and university hoodie when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. 

**_dan [1:41am]:_ ** _hurry up i want you_

There's a mostly pleasant swooping sensation in the pit of his stomach, and that's enough for him to start thinking with his dick again. For now. 

He turns out the light and treads quietly out of his bedroom. 

*

The third step up from the bottom of the stairs creaks, he reminds himself as he gingerly takes his first few steps down. 

Not that it matters, probably. From up here he can tell that the drinking games are still going strong over in the lounge, and it's not like anyone's gonna be listening for him. 

He skips over the step anyway. 

Going out the front would entail passing through the lounge and all of his housemates, so he opts for the back door. He makes it as far as the darkened kitchen before the light switches on and there's a soft throat-clearing noise behind him. 

"Right then, Lester, where're you off to?"

He doesn't have to stop. He could pretend he doesn't hear her, keep walking on out the door, and be chastised in the morning. 

But he doesn't have the balls to do that, and they both know it. So he pauses and sighs and turns around. 

Addy looks quite nice tonight. Her slim-fit navy dress really brings out the blue in her eyes, and her jet-black hair falls smoothly over her shoulders. They get mistaken for siblings sometimes, though Phil's quite sure that their resemblance doesn't extend anywhere beyond hair and eye color. And his hair isn't even natural.

It's the first that he's seen of her tonight. She must have just got back from her date, then. 

She looks nice, but she also looks confused in spite of her mildly accusatory tone of voice. 

"That's a pretty necklace." He says lamely, glancing down at the little silver pendant resting just below her collarbone as a convenient means of avoiding eye contact. "Did Sam give it to you? Happy anniversary by the way, how was dinner?" 

"It was good. He's already starting to get pissed out there with the rest of them. Also, you're shit at deflecting. Tell me where you're going."

"Does it matter? I'm an adult." It's meant to be a joke, kind of, but it really just comes out sounding incredibly stupid, even for him. He shouldn't try to go on the defensive, like, ever. Especially with Addy. Even considering that she's his best friend, he still finds her ability to consistently see right through him a little unnerving.

"Maybe. Technically." She shrugs, and crosses her arms. She doesn't look mad or intimidating. Just... determined. "I'm just a bit surprised to see you headed out when everyone just told me that you'd gone up to bed for the night."

He's about to respond with some on-the-spot, half-assed lie before he's interrupted by another vibration in his pocket. 

He's not the only one who notices. Her eyes flicker briefly to his pocket, and then back up at him again. 

"You're going to see him." It's a statement, not a question. Her voice has gone a bit softer, and he hates that. Not because he hates softness in general, but he knows that she hasn't changed her tone to be gentle. She's changed it because she feels bad for him. 

He sighs and deflates a little. "How do you know it's him? It could be someone else."

"I guess." She steps closer. Her heels make it so that she's much closer to eye level with him than usual. "I just don't know why you'd be sneaking out the back for anyone but him."

"We're good at fucking each other." He shrugs and shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. Maybe the abrupt change of subject will throw her off. Just a little. Just for a minute. He needs to level the playing field  _somehow._ "It's just sex. It's fun. No one's getting hurt."

"I don't believe that." Her reply is instantaneous. "And I don't think you do, either."

He's quiet for a moment and he wills his voice not to sound as pathetic as he feels when he speaks up again. 

"Dan's not a bad person."

"I know he's not, babe." Another quick reply. He knows that she means it. She and Dan had gotten on quite well before the... unpleasantness. 

They've had this talk a million times over the past month. _It's not healthy, it's not healthy, it's not healthy. I know you still love him but it's not healthy. You'll never get over him if you keep having these backslides._

_Maybe I don't want to get over him._ He never actually says that bit out loud. Then he'd never hear the end of it. 

"He broke your heart though, yeah?"

_He didn't want to. But..._

"...Yeah."

He doesn't say anything else. She doesn't either, for a while. He reckons she's resigned, which he can't help but feel bad about. Her heart's in the right place. He's just weak. 

His hand twitches instinctively towards his pocket when he feels another vibration. Then, her hand comes to rest on his cheek. 

"Just be safe, alright?"

He's ready to make some cheeky comment about Dan's impressive stash of free condoms from the student center in an attempt to break the tension or lighten the mood or  _something,_ but she cuts in before he can get a word out, like she's already read his mind.

"Not like that. I mean watch out for yourself. Think about what you're doing and make sure that you really believe that it's what's best for you. And for him."  

He stands still there for a minute after she walks out. He owes it to her to at least let her words sink in before reaching into his pocket to see what those two little vibrations were about.

**_dan [1:43am]:_ ** _i might just start without you if you don't get your ass over here soon :p_

_**dan [1:45am]:**  phiiiiiiiiiilllllllllll :(_

He does have a choice here, he knows that. But the undeniable ache in his chest makes him feel like he really, really doesn't.

*

The soft, pitchy breath that Dan stifles into his shoulder when he finally bottoms out, after an agonizing minute of working himself slowly down on Phil's cock, is objectively the best sound in the world. He soaks it up and holds onto it every single time, on the dreaded chance that he might never get to hear it again. The possibility is always there. It could happen any day. 

"Fuck." Dan's nails dig deep into his shoulder blades. "Give me a sec. I swear your dick got bigger since last time."

"Last time was less than a week ago." Phil reminds him, deliberately letting his breath ghost over Dan's neck as he winds his arms securely around his waist. It has the desired effect; Dan shudders and relaxes a bit. "And it definitely didn't. You're just not prepped enough, you got impatient."

He receives only a delayed  _hmph_ in response, and he has to smirk. Because Dan doesn't want to admit that he's right, but it's kind of impossible for either of them to deny.

"Right, c'mere." His voice goes softer than intended and he slides one hand up to tangle into Dan's hair. Dan obliges and tilts his head before Phil can even tell him to. "Relax." He murmurs in between hot, wet kisses to Dan's neck, particularly all the sensitive spots that he's had memorized for what feels like ages. "You feel so fucking good." 

He does. Dan's warmth clenching around him so tight that he can't move is actually bordering on too much. Bordering, because he doesn't think that 'too much' is really a part of his vocabulary when it comes to Dan. With Dan, he always wants more. 

So he chases it. 

Instant gratification, that's what this is. That's why they do this. That's what he tells himself when Dan starts rocking against him, that's what he tells himself when he grabs onto Dan's hips hard enough to bruise and guides him down harder and faster, that's what he tells himself when Dan's panting and moaning and begging for more, that's what he tells himself when he flips them over and pounds into him with total abandon because he knows they're right on the limit. That's what he tells himself when Dan's legs start to shake and his eyes flutter shut and he clenches around him, and that's what he tells himself when his hips stutter and he buries himself deep inside one last time and collapses almost before the relief of his orgasm finishes washing over him. 

Then he rolls off, so they're laid side by side with their bodies limp and boneless and their chests flushed and hearts pounding. Phil lets his eyes fall shut, then, because this is the part where they stop bullshitting themselves. 

"I love you." Dan whispers, and hands him a couple tissues. 

He sighs, opens his eyes and hastily cleans off the mess of Dan's cum that's painted onto his chest and stomach. 

"Yeah. I love you too."

*

The only light in the room now comes from the cheap fairy lights that Dan's strung up on the wall behind his bed. They cast a dim glow onto the bottle of Malibu that Dan's rolling in between his hands - the one he keeps by the side of his bed that makes him look like an alcoholic, though it's really just there to stay safe from his housemates given their tendency to steal any liquor they can get their hands on. 

"You sure you don't want any?" Dan offers, and Phil just shakes his head and slides down under the covers. "Had enough earlier. Everyone kept fucking me over in Kings."

"Explains why it took you so fucking long to get here." Dan takes a decent pull from the bottle and then sets it down before joining him under the covers. He holds an arm out and Phil curls into him, head resting on Dan's shoulder. 

"No, I tried to get here quick. Addy stopped me on the way out, though."

"Oh." Dan's body stills, and for a few moments the room lapses into a tense silence. "She told you not to come, I guess."

He doesn't deny it, because there's really no use. "I came anyway, though, didn't I?"

"She must fucking hate me now."

"She doesn't." 

It's too dark to really read Dan's expression, but Phil can sense that he's being cast a very skeptical look. 

"She doesn't." He repeats. "She's just worried. About both of us. 'Cause, you know..." He trails off. He doesn't need to say it; Dan knows. 

"It's better this way." Dan mumbles. "I'm a shit boyfriend, Phil. I'm just like, a shit person altogether. I have no idea what I'm doing with my life, I've just as good as flunked out of law school. Some day I'm gonna start to drag you down too much, this way you're off the hook. You can just... leave. No strings."

Phil doesn't respond. This is another conversation he's had a million times. Another conversation that just goes around in circles. It doesn't seem to matter how many times he tells Dan that it's too late for no strings. That's not something that works retroactively. Not for him. 

It seems to make sense to Dan that they still fuck basically every week, that they still say  _I love you,_ but they somehow can't be together. Phil's not sure if they broke up because Dan just doesn't care, or if Dan thinks that  _Phil_ doesn't care. Surely it can't be that. How many times has he told Dan that he loves him in spite of everything, that he wants him complete with all of his flaws? The same way that Dan wants him... or wanted him, at one point. He doesn't know anymore. 

Because he knows Dan isn't the type to suddenly stop caring about something, or someone. Dan cares a whole fucking lot. But something gets in the way sometimes. Something unreadable, that makes the light go out in his eyes. Phil knows he can't replace that light, he's tried. But god damn, he at least wants to help find something that can. 

"Does this feel like no strings to you?" Phil asks quietly. Maybe Dan will listen to himself, if he can't listen to Phil.

"No." 

Phil waits a moment for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. "Me neither. What if it stays that way?"

Dan doesn't respond, but he does rest his cheek down on top of Phil's head when he scoots in closer. 

They're both hanging onto something, surely. The question is whether they're hanging onto the  _same_ thing. 

He's not so sure he wants to know.

 

**Author's Note:**

> written for phandomficfests shuffle mode mini-fest
> 
> song prompt: [banks - waiting game](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCT_lgJ5eq8)
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> like/reblog/talk to me on tumblr: [iinterruptedbyfireworks](https://iinterruptedbyfireworks.tumblr.com/)


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